Back to the farmers market

 

These Pink Lady apples were so crisp I had to buy them.

I know I know, I've been so bad about updating my blog lately. I'm particularly disappointed in myself because I'd planned to blog more often. I usually play rugby at this time of year but I took the spring season off because I wanted more time for other things, like blogging (and after 11 seasons, my body was telling me it was time for a break). OK, I know I have a small readership so who cares, right? But the point was committing myself to writing regularly (and I figured that if I did want to be read by more people than my dad and my sister, I needed to write more). So here it is the end of February and I've blogged only four times since the beginning of the year. I have one guess as to why. I've been training for a half marathon and so even though I'm not at rugby practice, I'm still spending time exercising, which leaves less time for blogging. And if that isn't the reason, I have no excuse except laziness, which is a definite possibility. But today, even with my training run, I have something to blog about.

My running partner and I ran past the farmers market on our 11-mile run this morning. She said she could smell fresh fruit. But with a stuffy nose, all I could smell was the overpowering sweet scent of kettle corn. I haven't been to the farmers market in months but seeing the row of white canopies (and smelling kettle corn in a weak moment!) made me want to go. So after our run, I stretched, showered and ate, then returned to the scene of the crime, this time driving since my legs were spent.

I stopped at the crafts fair first and bought two pairs of cheap sunglasses to replace the pair I lost last Sunday. Then, in the 10 minutes before the farmers market closed at 2, I filled one reusable bag full of $15 worth of fruit and veggies. Lettuce, spinach, broccoli, onions, potatoes, grape tomatoes ... avocados, organic apples and an orange (extra vitamin C to help me get over my cold).

Rushing through the farmers market isn't the best way to shop. It's better to take one walk through to see what's being sold and then decide what to buy. I bought broccoli and then farther down saw bright green organic broccoli I would have preferred. I also bought organic apples after sampling crisp Pink Ladies. But at $2.50 a pound, they were more expensive than organic apples on sale at Whole Foods. But overall, the trip was worth it. You can't beat not having to roll a wobbly cart through massive aisles and waiting in line at the grocery store. And the vendors are much friendlier than grocery store clerks. A woman who was already packing away her produce went into the back of her truck to find an orange for me, even though I was only buying one for a whoppin' 50 cents.

Another benefit is that you have to stick to your budget, since the vendors only take cash. I didn't have enough money left over for a bag of kettle corn. But that was probably for the best!

Truly fresh eggs

 

Eggs from a very happy chicken, Gracie. They're so yellow.

I haven't blogged in what feels like ages. I haven't even updated the last two weeks of my mileage challenge, which ended two weeks ago. But since right now I don't feel like finding the notebook I was keeping track of my daily mileage in, I'm writing about something else much more fun than my commute: food. I don't write about the teens I work with very often because it seems like an invasion of their privacy since they interact with us without expecting anecdotes about their lives to be shared in a blog. But I just had to mention the tasty, fresh eggs the other editors and I got from one of our students. She's writing a story about her pet chickens and brought each of us two eggs from Gracie. Each pair were wrapped in a paper towel tucked into a paper bag. We unwrapped them to take a look and it felt like Christmas Day. The delicate eggs were different colors and sizes. I had one medium brown one and a small white egg. The words "happy chicken" came to mind, instead of "chicken factory."

I didn't know how long they'd stay fresh but didn't have a chance to make them over the weekend. So on Tuesday morning I whipped up the two eggs for breakfast before work. The yolks were bright yellow and my eggs were glowing on my plate. And they tasted sooo good and fresh. Because, well, they were. It felt even better than eating free-range eggs that still have to be packaged and shipped. These eggs just traveled down the 60 freeway from Walnut.

That morning at work we all raved about our eggs. Laura said it made her want her own chicken. I don't think I'm ready for that responsibility but she also said she wanted to try buying eggs at a farmers market. I think that's a much better idea!